


A years Journey

by Apep40



Series: Abby and Owens Partnership [2]
Category: Let Me In (2010)
Genre: F/M, Horror, Immortality, One Shot, Puppy Love, Romance, Small Towns, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apep40/pseuds/Apep40
Summary: Almost a year after their union began, Owen and Abby are residing in an ancient town. Owen is happy for the first time in his life but how can love be sustained in a situation such as theirs?
Relationships: Abby/Owen (Let Me In)
Series: Abby and Owens Partnership [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022515
Comments: 24
Kudos: 11





	A years Journey

**New England, January 1984**

As the icy gust of wind swept across the frozen lake Malcolm braced himself. He was very appropriately attired for the freezing conditions he was in, well clad in thick clothes with a large bushy beard as well. However, when the wind hit him he still felt an agonizing chill down to his bones and he felt his balls retreated into his body, like a squirrel hurrying back into its nest. He needed to warm himself up and quickly, so he took a solid whisk from the cannister of vodka he had brought with him. He wasn’t sure it was safe in his current environment; he was on top of a lake frozen hard into ice and it was very slippery. Plus, he had sawed a hole into the ice directly beneath him to sink his fishing line into. It wasn’t deep enough for his stout body to fit in, he assumed.

Although, he wouldn’t have necessarily minded at that point.

His life was effectively over. The textile mill in the town he lived at had shut down and that had ended any chance of him living a dignified life or indeed securing another job. He and the boys he met up with from nearby towns had raged when they saw it on TV. A smirking politician suggesting that anyone who is suffering from the gutting of industry in the region should simply seek to retrain or relearn and when the slightly flabbergasted reporter pointed out not many unemployed men with families had the time or money to do so. The politician had just smirked and proclaimed in America a man lives off his own sweat and tears and finds his own way in the world. Realising he was only going to get platitudes instead of help from the state he had angrily thrown his beer bottle at the tv to the cheers of the rest of the patrons at the bar.

It felt good then, but the question had quickly sunk into him as it was sinking in now. What was he going to do? He was too old for change, 48, with a beard already beginning to be peppered with grey, and he wasn’t smart enough to get a professional job anyway. His heart sank even deeper into despair when he realised he couldn’t even catch his own food, his mate had told him about the merits of ice fishing and had showed and explained to him the techniques to do so but it wasn’t working, he had yet to feel even the gentles snag against the rope. An hour in and he almost burst into tears.

But instead he drank some more, he drank and drank until he was quite tipsy, and the sun had sunk as low as his spirits. It wasn’t so bad now, he supposed. He was starting to feel nice and warm and he was beginning to forget about his misfortunes, just for a little while. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

Then he heard something.

Something that sounded like the banging of wood and the sound of something lightly tapping over the frozen ice of the lake and something even mor peculiar. Something totally at odds with the tranquil nature of the lake.

It sounded like the laughter of children.

“What the hell?” He muttered to himself. He opened his eyes, which then quickly spread to the size of saucers at the sight at the other end of the lake.

It was indeed two children, a boy and a girl. They were both young, prepubescent from what he could tell. They were playing a game of fencing only instead of swords they were armed with branches from a nearby tree, each as thick as their slender limbs but being manoeuvred effortlessly as if they weighed nothing. The girl appeared to be winning, as she was usually the one to knock the wood out of the boys’ hand. Who took the embarrassment rather good naturedly. It was a rather sweet sight, but Malcolm felt like he needed to warn them, what they were doing wasn’t safe. They could slip but then he noticed something else, something that made him think he was dreaming.

Nether off the children were wearing winter clothes.

The boy was clad only in a thin white t shirt and a pair of tracksuits trousers, while the girl was wearing a threadbare skirt and even more bizarrely, they were both barefoot. As he noticed that gap mouthed, the girl made a thrust with her branch at the boy’s chest. Only for the boy to jump backwards and, it wasn’t a mere awkward childish stumble, he leapt at least three meters into the air before landing as nimbly as a cat.

“The fuck?” _I’ve definitely drank way too much._

The girl herself audibly gasped in mock offense as if the rules of a game had been broken. She responded by jumping herself even higher and faster than the boy had and landed on him, knocking the branch from his hands and sending it traveling back to the thick woodland that encompassed the body of water. The boy was sent sprawling, with his bare feet covered in snow but they were not frostbitten or showing the first signs of reddening. Instead he only laughed and offered up his arm to the girl who took it and drew him up. Soon the boy and girl were staring into each other eyes.

Staring in a way that reminded him of the young couples he used to see at the waterfront of his town before all the young people had left.

That shocked him awake, much more than the seemingly unnatural performance he had just witnessed. Maybe because while the unnatural things he saw couldn’t be real, the children’s kissing certainly could be. He looked on and saw the girl had took hold off the boy’s raven hair and was running her fingers through it lovingly before drawing his face in for a kiss. That upset him, Malcolm liked kids and he hated seeing their innocence be prematurely ended. He had heard in other hard hit towns around new England kids had turned to drug mulling or prostitution to keep their families fed and he had almost wept at the thought of it happening to any kid he knew or saw.

Admittedly both of the kids seemed to be enjoying it. The girl in particular, he saw her hands traverse down the boys back, before ending their journey on his ass and she began to firmly squeeze him. The boy himself, seemingly more innocent, his hands had so far were only resting rather nervously on her shoulders, jumped up a bit in shock before smiling sheepishly. The man raised himself out of his drunken stupor.

“Hey, stop that!” He meant for the words to come put as a mighty bellow but instead they were slurred, he bushed slightly at that and looked down at the hole in embarrassment wondering how he could be respected as an elder or authority figure after that. 

When he looked up again, they were gone.

He felt a chill go down his spine colder than any icy blast he had experienced today but he also felt somewhat relieved, this had been a dream after all. He would definitely cut down on the booze when he got back home. He started to reel the fishing line in defeat, no point in continuing to pointlessly torture himself.

Then he felt something, like a gust of wind behind him.

“What are you doing?” Came a quiet voice, a girl’s voice.

He looked around and he saw them, the boy and the girl. As he fell and landed rather close to the sawed-up hole in the ice he looked at them and could make out their features. They were both striking, they were both beautiful and pale and slender. But the boy was much more unique looking, his skin was so fair it went beyond pale and was whiter than the snow surrounding him. The white skin was contrasted by his hair, which was as black as ink, it couldn’t adequately be described as simply dark. His face was extremely fine featured as well, with well-defined cheekbones. His eyes were startlingly, they were large and a pale greenish blue colour. 

“Wh…. are you?”

“What are you doing here?” She asked again, her voice a lot deeper and stiller, as he squinted up, he realised she looked to be the more dominate of the couple. Now only in personality, as she started threateningly at him, but she seemed to be physically stronger. She was slender but looked athletic in contrast to the almost twig like skinniness of the boy. 

“I….im…...fishing.” He stammered nervously while pointing weakly at the fishing rod besides him.

“Why? You can’t be doing this for fun, its freezing.”

 _You’re one to talk,_ he almost said. Staring at their bare feet, and the girls exposed slender legs and the boy’s bare alabaster arms, as little drops of snow fell on them without any reaction but he thought better of it. Instead he answered honestly.

“I’m trying to catch something to eat.”

“To eat?”

“Yeah, to eat. I lost my job, I live at the town about a mile from here, you know the one where the mill was shut down and I can’t buy enough food, so I was trying to catch something.” That seemed to make the girl pause.

“That makes sense.” She said quietly. Suddenly her posture had relaxed, and her staring had lessened in its intensity, Malcolm felt like he could stand now.

“So,” he adopted a jovial tone to try to relax the mood, “what are you doing here?”

“Nothing.” The girl responded.

“……right.” He replied awkwardly

“Why? What did you see?” She asked her voice regaining its coldness. He felt there was no lying with this girl.

“You were playing, with branches. Like sword fighting?” 

“What else?” She demanded her voice becoming even sterner and something else happened. It was her eyes.

They seemed to have become yellow and slitted like a cat.

Malcolm felt like screaming but instead only more confessions came out from his mouth. His jaw was no longer obeying him but the girl.

“You were doing these fancy ninja jumps and…...” he felt embarrassed at admitting what else he saw them doing.

“What else?”

“You were kissing, like really kissing, like adults do,” he shrank at the glare he received from her, “and you were grabbing that little guys ass.”

At that her eyes went back to their normal green. He felt something in his mind relax and he dropped down panting slightly. He noticed that girl looked embarrassed, in a normal way at seeing her and her time with her boyfriend interrupted and seen. The boy himself seemed absolutely mortified. He was blushing intensely, that contrasted with the pale pallor of the rest of his skin. He was shuffling his feet on the ice too.

His utterly bare feet.

Suddenly the man grew concerned again no longer worried about his safety or the sexual exploration he just witnessed. All he was concerned about was the two kids in the snow, no matter how little it seemed to be affecting them. Especially the boy, he seemed so sheepish and shy. He had yet to say a word.

“Hello.” He waved a gloved hand at the boy.

“Hi.” He responded in a voice so shy and quiet he had to strain to hear it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked.

“We don’t really get cold.” The boy responded awkwardly.

“Why?”

The boy just shrugged a bony pair of shoulders in response.

The man stepped closer to him, he wanted to take care of him, he looked as unnatural as the girl standing in the freezing temperature, but he seemed to have a kind of vulnerability to him. His eyes were sensitive and expressive, and they looked like the boy had been hurt badly at some point. The girl stepped between them glaring at him, like a mother bear between her cub and a predator.

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want to know who are you? What are your names?”

“Abby.” The girl responded.

“uh….im Kenny.” His tone had been stuttering and unconvincing. Coupled with the way his eyes dilated in shock all indicated he was lying.

“Okay, Kenny, Abby. My names Malcolm. Happy to see you.”

The girl just glared, as the boy simply nodded so gently and softly it was almost imperceptible.

“I’ve never seen you in town before and we don’t get any visitors. What you are doing here?”

“Visiting.” She responded abruptly. 

“Uh….okay,” he didn’t know what else to say, until he remembered something. His sister in law worked at the old bed and breakfast at the edge of town and she had mentioned two very odd visitors who had come last week. Two kids, and she meant kids, not people in their late teens or early twenties. Literally two children who looked 12 at most, and they were on their own. The only thing they brought with them was an extremely large trunk and when she was cleaning in their room there had been ancient looking puzzles scattered throughout their room. 

That was odd but then he remembered something else, something that made him feel very cold indeed.

The last week there had been several unfortunate incidents. One of his old buddies had went missing, they had assumed he had runway or committed suicide in the woods at the loss of his job and the other one had been found dead, with his throat ripped out. It had been assumed he had stumbled out into the woods drunk and had the incredible misfortune over stumbling across a wolf or bear. But now the timing with these two kids and the fact there was something deeply off about the two of them and he suddenly felt very nervous indeed. He felt bile rise to his throat and he backed away quietly.

“What’s the matter?” The girl asked quietly, and she advanced towards him.

“Nothing, I just need to get home now. Its late.” He put his arm behind his back and started to pull the knife strapped to his pants out.

“Stop.” The girl said, she didn’t see him do anything, but she evidently knew what he was doing.

His blood was ice water now, but he pulled the knife out with a flourish very quickly. The girl didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest, the boy was a different story he looked emotional. And not the nervousness he had expected but he seemed angry at him, angry for raising his weapon at his little girlfriend.

“Look, just let me go. I don’t what the fuck you two are and I don’t care. Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone about Clay and Jack.” 

"Who are Clay and Jack?"

“Clay and Jack, the two guys you killed?” The words had barely escaped his lips when he realised, he had made an obscenely stupid mistake.

The girl started to advance toward him.

“Stay back!” He brandished the knife again.

She kept walking.

“I mean it! Look I don’t want to hurt you kid, I really don’t. I don’t know what the fuck you are but if you don’t back away il have to use this on you.”

She kept walking. She was perhaps three feet from him.

Malcolm didn’t know whether it was the adrenaline or the alcohol in his system, but he felt all hesitation leave him. He closed his eyes and charged the girl with a knife roaring like a viking.

He felt his arm stop within a single step; it hadn’t been stopped by his knife connecting with something, so he wondered what had stopped him. When he opened his eyes, he saw a pale slender hand around his wrist, coiling tightly like a python.

And the hand belonged to the gentle looking boy.

Currently the boy was staring at him. He looked furious and he was growling lowly. That surprised him, he seemed so soft and sweet. He had even assumed he was the girl’s captive or slave, but her gaze was merely cold and dispassionate in contrast to the utter fury in his.

“Kid?” He said still numb before the boy raised his army quickly and let go off him. He soon felt himself flying through the air. When he landed, he felt the thick ice beneath him crack. He felt numb but soon the pain exploded through him, not just through the quickly bruising flesh on his back where he landed but also through his arm.

Particularly through his arm.

He felt something trickling down his sleeve and he gently probed at it, then he felt it. There was something hard and sharp extruding out. It was a bone. His bone.

The scrawny boy had gripped him his arm so tightly it had been shattered so thoroughly that he had been given a severe compound fracture.

He was still in shock; the worst of the pain was yet to come and already he felt like his arm had been roasted and flayed. He whimpered and felt tears cascading down his cheeks.

“Wha…. how…...” He looked up the boy still seemed very angry.

“Never try to hurt her. Never.” His voice was an inhuman growl now. His vision was still blurred through the tears, but the boy looked different, his skin seemed to have changed. It was no longer as smooth and soft looking like silk. Instead it was diseased looking and in his mouth he could see fangs. They were as sharp and jagged as a wolf.

Malcom had time to make one mad desperate scream before he felt something sharp sink into his throat, something sharper than any knife he had welded, he tried to scream again but his throat was filled with warm, metallic liquid. 

Then he felt something else, something biting into his arm.

 _Please, please_ , he thought but no mercy came. He only felt himself getting colder and colder until he heard a snapping noise and everything within him stilled at once.

Owen and Abby had eaten him quickly, they normally did when they shared a meal, seeing as they had to satisfy both their hunger when they hunted their prey. Abby, much more experienced than Owen instinctively knew when to stop drinking and unclamped her fangs from the beefy man’s forearm before resuming her human form. Owen much rawer and more inexperienced was still gnawing and slurping at the man despite the fact all blood had ceased to flow, and he was simply chewing on raw meat and bone.

“Uh, Owen.” She said politely, Owen immediately stepped out of his trance and turned his gaze towards her. His eyes gleaming in the dark cold area.

As Owen snapped out of it, he looked around readjusting to his human form as he began to return to his normal state. As he did so he looked at the man. The man who tried to stab his Abby, his beloved and suddenly he got so angry, all coherent thought became an impossibility and with a roar smashed his tiny fists into the man’s torse. Immediately he felt the ribcage collapse entirely and some remaining blood spurt out of his mouth. The ice below them, the best part of a meter thick now, almost collapsed entirely at the sheer force.

“Owen!” She said exasperated, she was also concerned, she hated watching the demonic part of the disease overwhelm Owen, even for a moment. No matter how much she accepted Owen was a vampire now, she took his innocence and cuteness very seriously.

Which had now resumed he was back to being Owen again. With his angelic face and big puppy dog eyes, he was currently rather embarrassed and crestfallen at losing control like that.

“Sorry, Abby. I didn’t mean too. It’s just when he tried to hurt you, I got so mad I couldn’t think, I couldn’t….” he trailed off.

She took his hand, “I know.” She had been furious with the man as well. Not for trying to stab her, that hadn’t posed even the most miniscule of threats to her. It was for how he had disturbed their play time. She and Owen had gone out to the frozen lake to play for the past several nights now. It was very peaceful, standing on the snow powdered frozen lake. It felt like they had entered into their own private universe, cut off from the rest of the world. Until he had interrupted him, now only in their play but in their kissing. Abby herself felt her face scrunch up at the thought of someone else seeing how she liked to squeeze and pat Owens cute, little butt.

“So, should we just throw him into the lake? It’s pretty lonely here.” He said as he threw the man’s fishing rod and other possessions into the cut off hole in the ice.

“I’m not sure, Owen. I mean you heard how he mentioned the other two people going missing and we tried to cover those up.”

“Okay, then what?”

“Drop him far into the ocean?” She suggested, Owen grinned at that.

“That’s a good idea.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you want me to be the one to drop him in or do you want to?”

“Abby, you’re the better flier. You should do it.”

“Okay.” 

She placed her feet on the dead man’s body, and she willed herself to change once again.

In the calm, tranquil forest the sound of large wings beating could be heard.

Owen landed on the stony shore with an inelegant thud. He pouted slightly in embarrassment, it had been almost a year since his transformation and even under Abby’s patient instruction he was still a clumsy flier. Abby had told he was doing fine and that he was making much faster progress than she had when she was first turned. While he had soaked up the praise with a beaming smile, he still had the niggling feeling she was just being nice to him. As he craned his neck up and saw the beautiful shape of Abby flying with the corpse between her claws like a magnificent bat, he couldn’t help but be awed at how graceful and refined she looked. To compare him to her was like comparing a confused bumblebee to a majestic bird of prey.

He sighed, realising he would just have to keep practising. Until then he had nothing to do but wait. He decided to pass the time by surveying his surroundings. He was standing on a rocky beach. There was no sand, only rocks and razor-sharp looking shingles. The waves generated by the sea were very weak and the water was freezing. So, his privacy was pretty much guaranteed. He walked over on his bare feet, paying the sharp debris no mind before he was standing on the edge of the water. From there he placed his little toes near the wave and retracted them with a giggle before the icy water touched his skin.

He played the game for a while, constantly darting his toes away and to the water. It was childish, but it was so much fun to him. He had never seen the sea before he had escaped with Abby, the most he had ever ventured out to was the rest of his home state and he found the dry landscapes of the south west to be almost as depressingly boring as he found the mountains of Los Alamos. But he had discovered that he loved the sea very much. He had asked Abby whether they could fly away from America and live on a small island. Abby had smiled at him and pointed out he needed to improve his flying before he could do that. He conceded she had a point but then added maybe they could just swim or walk along the ocean floor. It wasn’t like they needed to breathe. Abby as always found his creativity and imagination rather endearing but told him that perhaps he needed to adjust to his new state until they could entertain such a huge challenge.

As a compromise they had toured mainly coastal towns and regions. It did make sense, as Owen pointed, it was much easier to dispose of a body near a massive body of water. Not everything had been a success, of course. Nothing ever was. They had gone to Florida and while there, they had gone to a major gang and drug hotspot. While there, a woman, high out of anything resembling a mind, had seen how pale Owen was and became convinced he was a ghost summoned from the depths of hell to torment her. She had emptied the contents of her handgun into his face. It hadn’t truly hurt him, and Abby had rather enjoyed playing nurse to him, but he had found it deeply embarrassing.

As he was lost deep in thought he realised the wave was close to touching his toes he quickly retracted them, stepping back. He winced as he felt something prick his skin, he gingerly looked down and shuttered when he saw what it was. A dirty needle.

He quickly and boyishly kicked his legs up sending the needle flying into the sky. There wasn’t any real reason to be concerned, no human ailment could harm him, but it still deeply disturbed him. Not just because it was an offence to his innocence, he may have always had an interest in the macabre, particularly serial killers, and at this point had personally eaten dozens of people but there was just something so dirty and grotesque and, most importantly for Owen, adult about drug use.

His other reason for concern was the realisation that this beach was still used by people after all, very unsavoury people. Suddenly he felt very small and shy, he wasn’t sure why. Intellectually, he knew he was stronger than…. well, practically anything else that lived but the thought of bumping into a thug or petty criminal made him sick. Probably because of his memory of Kenny. Even now when he would see someone who vaguely resembled the sadist who had tormented him, and he would start to shake.

He looked around the beach nervously, it was pitch black, but it could have been illuminated by streetlamps for all it meant to his vampiric eyes. No one was there to his relief. He refocused his attention to the sea. This time parting large rocks with his toes. Soon, he heard the familiar sound of Abby making a controlled descend towards him.

“Hi.” He smiled.

“Hi” She smiled back, then she frowned as she saw her boyfriend looking rather uneasy.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Uh…. it’s nothing. I just thought about Kenny, not a lot. But just a little…” He trailed off, embarrassed. She put her hand on his slender shoulder.

“It’s okay, Owen.”

“Sure.” He said bitterly. He hated how even in death Kenny would torment him from time to time. While his condition had healed the last of Kenny’s wounds that been inflicted on him, he would happily trade them all back if it meant getting rid of his nightmares. He had woken up screaming a few times as Abby held him, he grimaced in memory.

“Do you want to do something fun?” She suggested trying to cheer him up, immediately he smiled.

“Sure. What do you want to do?”

“Swim?” She suggested pointing at the water that could kill a man in minutes. He looked surprisingly nervous at the suggestion. 

“Are you sure? What if someone sees us?”

“Then we’ll have to kill them.” She said jokingly with a smile. Owen laughed a little at her audacity then nodded that yes, he would love to swim.

They began to undress.

Abby started first, stripping off quickly and efficiently before walking into the water. Owen was much slower and more self-conscious, he was still retaining his boyish modesty, as a stubborn thread of humanity to cling to. He certainly didn’t need them, nor did Abby which is why she so often walked in her bare feet in snowy environment and had constantly needed to be reminded by Thomas to wear boots in the snow.

Unlike Abby’s casual walk into the water, Owen cupped his genitals before leaping into the water. It was quite a sight, almost painting like. The ink black sky contrasted with Owens pale borderline luminous skin before he quickly crashed into the sea. Sending waves scattering into Abby’s face.

He was immediately bashful. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” But she had a small token of revenge by little flicking some water into his face as he laughed. 

They swam and played in the water for 10 minutes. Owen had attempted to recreate some of the exercises Mr. Zorić had put him through at the strength building class in the water. He smiled at the memory of the one adult who hadn’t utterly failed him in his old life.

As they left the water they looked down at their clothes and realising they had nothing to dry themselves, leapt up into the air and landed on the snow, they lay there on their backs looking into the sky as they waited to dry.

“Abby, how long do you think we can stay here?”

“What do you mean? The normal period of time.” 

“But that's like two weeks at most, I really like it here.” That intrigued so she sat up in the freezing ground.

“Really? Why?” That genuinely mystified her. The town they were living at was rather depressing; depopulated, deindustrialised, impoverished.

“I just think its really cool and creepy and halloweeny.”

“Halloweeny?” She laughed. Then when she saw him nod eagerly, she realised he was being utterly sincere. She didn’t know why that surprised her. Owen loved the gothic and the macabre, and his interests hadn’t been satisfied in his old life residing in a planned town in New Mexico.

“Yeah, don’t you like it? Since the towns so old, like you are. Its around the same age as you are. Right?”

“More or less.” She recalled the pamphlet she had read at the tourist shop; it claimed the town was founded in 1654.

“Is it fun being reminded of how life used to be?” He asked curiosity etched in his sapphire eyes.

“All time periods just sort of blend in for me Owen.” She confessed, although she would be lying if she claimed that being near reminders of her human life didn’t affect her. She suddenly felt rather sad which Owen didn’t seem to notice as he was lost in his theories about her powers and history again as he was fond of doing and she was fond of listening too but not when it concerned something so personal to her.

“There’s gotta be a time period you really liked.” He insisted while stretching out in the nude. He looked almost elf like in the snow, as if his body was completely in tune to nature. All he needed to do was shave his head and he would be virtually invisible with his nude form encompassed by the snow. It made for a very beautiful and exotic sight.

“I like this time period.”

“Really why?” He sat up, sitting Indian style.

“I just do.” She muttered, while staring at his beautiful body. In particular, she couldn’t help but stare at his penis, he was very well endowed for his age in contrast to his slim body and average height. 

“Well, can you tell me why?” He asked, curiosity shining in his face.

Her only response was taking him by his silky hair and pull him in towards her for a kiss.

She had closed her eyes, but she could feel and hear his muscles contract in pleasant surprise. As her hand flowed through his hair, he began to kiss her back. As he began to move his little body, so he was more comfortable as they made out, her hands flowed down his body, exploring the hills and valleys of his bones before her hands settled on their favourite destination, his cute, bare ass. She began to squeeze and caress him as they kissed.

Owen as usual was much shyer and more restrained, he barely brushed her hair with his soft hands. Sometimes that frustrated her and a few more times it left her concerned, thinking that he didn’t truly enjoy moments like this and was just doing it to please her. But such unpleasant thoughts were quickly rescinded as she heard him gasp in pleasure at one particular firm squeeze, it was just his way. Owen was naturally remarkably shy, quiet and submissive, and he would be for ever, she had to accept his nature as he had accepted hers.

As they slowly tried off by the air, they very reluctantly stopped kissing and got dressed. It was mainly to avoid the suspicion of the owner of the establishment they were living at. He was nice but irritatingly curious and he had already been alarmed when he saw them walk in the cold with thin clothes, they didn’t want to alarm him even more by returning in wet clothes in the freezing weather. Plus, it had been a very good excuse to walk around naked.

Owen did not like the owner of the Bed and breakfast at all. The man was old and was rather kind and grandfather like, especially to him. He even offered him sweets in occasion. Which was unbeknownst to him utterly pointless, as any food or drink besides blood would make Owen sick. He also hated the extra attention and affection. It made him feel babied and reminded him how much younger and immature he was than Abby. It also upset him that he only was getting attention and affection from adults now after he had spent years being neglected, abused and eventually killed before he received it.

After they got their clothes on, two sets of slitted eyes glowed in the dark. The only sound to be heard for miles was the unfolding and flapping of wings.

They quickly saw their destination an old, wooden building that now served as their current destination. It was a 5-minute walk from town, and it was situated between the road that lead into the town and the sea. They landed a hundred meters away from the bed and breakfast in the snow and slowly walked over to the building. Then Abby fished the keys out from pocket, and they opened the door before creeping to their rooms. Careful not to disturb the owner, they had to be extra careful on the steps, many of them had large cracks snaking through them and would creak even at the modest pressure of their young, slim bodies.

When they entered into their room and tried to turn the light on in nothing happened but the production of the vaguest glimmer of light before the bulb went. That had been a problem, the manager had told them days ago, the electricity wasn’t very good here and the building was extremely old. In apology he had given them gas lamps. They didn’t need them; they could see perfectly fine in pitch black, but they knew how unusual and suspicious that was, so they accepted the lamps.

It was a two-way relationship with the manager. They wouldn’t complain at all about the poor conditions and he wouldn’t ask why two, small children were on their own. He especially seemed silently suspicious about Owen; he had asked him once whether he had seen him on the news before and Abby had nearly ripped his heart out on the spot. He hadn’t brought it up since, but she was still unsure whether to kill the man before they left or not.

The room itself, although rather austere, was somewhat cosy. It had a fireplace and an extremely ancient bear rug. Most importantly there was their trunk, the only permanent possession they owned and on occasion when they could not find somewhere to stay it was their bed but not now. For the last week, they would hang a “do not disturb” sign over their door before they slept and they would pad the bath with blankets before they crawled in draping any material they had remaining over them as they slept in each other’s arms.

It was far too early for that; the sun had only set about two hours ago. So, Owen wondered over to the trunk and procured some of Abby’s old games and puzzles from it.

“Do you want to play for a bit?” He suggested, while she enjoyed watching Owen bend over, hoping that he wanted to play with something over than games.

“Hmm-hmmm.” She mumbled in response. In a coincidence, as he pulled the old Russian game Abby was fond off out, he dislodged some of the erotic lithographs she had that were held against the wall of the trunk. He immediately blushed when he saw it. _We really gotta to sell those._ But neither he or Abby knew how to sell it and get the large amount of money they were worth. He also felt his cheeks burn when he realised Abby probably wanted to practise some of the things depicted on them. That made him rather nervous, he wasn’t prudish or even shy when it came to sexuality. He had lost his virginity in the basement at his former apartment complex to Abby and they had sex many more times since but some of the ways he saw the figures pleasure each other in the drawings made him turn crimson.

He gingerly raised the wooden Slavic puzzle and waved it at her. Abby was disappointed but Owen looked so childishly eager than she nodded with a smile. Soon they were sitting on the bed, she was sitting on her knees, while Owen was cross legged with his cute feet buried beneath his spindly legs.

It got boring quickly, very quickly. They had solved and played with the puzzle dozens of times ever since Abby first brought it too the hospital to cheer him up. Owen sighed in boredom; he looked out at their window overlooking the lifeless sea. They had been given the option of a room overlooking the forest, which they had been told exploded into a mirage of different colours in the autumn but it had been winter and all the trees were so covered in snow they seemed to from one enormous, lumpy, monotonous blanket. Plus, Abby wasn’t very trusting, and she preferred a window next to the sea in case they had to escape and fly in a moments notice.

“Abby, do you want to do something?” He meekly suggested.

“Like what?” _Maybe he’s comfortable enough to try some of the things out of the paintings_ , she thought eagerly. She was prepared to rip both their clothes off within seconds. 

“Do you want to go into town?” That both disappointed and surprised her.

“Why, its boring?”

“Its not boring,” he insisted adamantly, “I mean, yeah. There’s nothing to do but its really cool to look at. Remember what I said?”

“Its halloweeny?” She deadpanned.

Owen sweet scrunch up in embarrassment at the reminder of his little kid speak earlier, “Yeah, it is like Halloween, its all dark and weird and scary. I liked it, didn’t you as a kid? Halloween, I mean?”

“I’m not sure if I would have liked it as a kid. It was brought over by the Irish, Owen and they only migrated to America en masse……”

“Centuries after you were turned. Yeah, I got that.” Owen didn’t mean to sound snippy or snarky, but he really disliked being constantly reminded of much older Abby was than him and how much more knowledgeable she was about the world than he was. 

“Can’t we go, please?” He added, much more politely. She chuckled lightly at the sight. Owen, one of the most dangerous and powerful creatures on the planet pleading with her to go out playing, with eyes that had shone like a demon in the dark but were now widening until they resembled a puppy.

She couldn’t say no to him “Yes. of course, Owen.”

They both made sure to wrap appropriately, not that it was necessary anyway. Owen took care to get dressed in boots, a thick scarf, hat and a large thick coat that reminded him of his beloved silver coat he had to leave behind at Los Alamos. Abby for her part was a lot less thorough in disguising her nature, she only put a thin jacket, pants and boots. It wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the efforts she had but in her last decade with Thomas. Her deceased friend had nagged her to be more discreet in her unnatural side and when he realised it was a battle he couldn’t win, just implored her to at least stick to their living quarters as he hunter for her.

She glanced in the mirror, she looked sort of normal. If an onlooker passed her, they most likely scold her for being inappropriately attired rather than disturbed how she could even breathe in such cold climes. She liked to think Thomas was looking at her somewhere appreciating her newfound discretion.

Owen unlocked the window and they leapt from it, landing perfectly on their feet. They hadn’t closed the window behind them, it was how they were planning on getting back in. As their little boots made minor undistinctive imprints in the thick snow, they turned a corner, and they could see the town. 

The seaside town was dead, for all intents and purposes. Its last main employer, the mill that the man they had eaten had worked in, had been failing and working under very lean demands for the last 5 years before it had finally been shut down completely. The economic heart of the urban area, after years being on very weak life support had finally deadlined. The only economic activity left was the fisheries and the waters surrounding them had been depleted by overfishing years ago. What they could catch was very often superfluous, most nearby markets simply imported seafood from abroad and a lot of it was dumped giving the town a rather rotten smell.

Owen grimaced as he smelt it. It made him feel somewhat grateful that he was longer capable of eating or drinking anything that wasn’t blood. That had been his only true regret and that was chiefly due to his love of Now and later sweets. He had never much of an appetite or a diverse culinary palate. He felt another wave hit him and he gagged. _Gross, it smells as bad as we do when we don’t eat_. He chewed his lip, _maybe going here wasn’t such a good idea._ Then he paused, _no, im not going back now. That would be stupid._ So, he put on a serious face and trenched forwards as quickly as his spindly legs would carry him. Until they were in the town itself.

To call the town depopulated would be an understatement. It had once been a reasonably sized settlement but over half a century of economic stagnation and deindustrialization had left the town hosting a fraction of its former capacity. They had learned, when they were flying scouting the area, in the thick dense cobweb of rotting disused warehouses, rusting factories and unmaintained colonial architecture, perhaps one in every three buildings had a visible light on and they could see a good percentage of lights were due to squatters using oil lanterns in lieu of electricity.

On the ground Abby found a few buildings had an undeniable rustic charm. They passed a row of Georgian houses; the paint was flecking, and the chimneys were crumbling slightly but they looked to be in moderately safe conditions. She took Owens hand, regretting that she was feeling his thick gloves rather than his soft skin.

As they passed through the town Owen was acutely aware of how grateful he was for his powers. Most of the street signs had fallen off or had faded to the point of being incomprehensible and he would have gotten lost if not for his superior hearing and smell. The other was his resistance against the cold, it was now so freezing the heavy snow had stopped and even the most intoxicated and uncaring drunks animal instincts had kicked in and they had slipped in to the many abandoned buildings in proximity to them. That was good, it was relatively unlikely than they would be attacked, and he really didn’t want to hurt someone unless he had to.

After a few minutes of walking they reached their destination; the two churches.

There were located at the heart of the town and they flanked both sides of the river that bisected the town. There was a certain juxtaposition between them, the one on the left was the oldest building in the entire settlement, while the church on the right was the last distinguished building of note to be erected. The leftwards church was very small and austere constructed of wood in an old colonial architecture style, while the rightwards church was built of stone, designed to emulate gothic revival stylings and was disproportionately, almost grotesquely, large in comparison to its surroundings. Its construction only made possible by a wealthy philanthropist who had family in the town in the late 19th century. The leftwards building was much better maintained, however. Its upkeep was relatively cheap and the remaining inhabitants of the town were proud of their heritage and were willing to make (extremely) modest contributions towards its upkeep, while the grandiose church to the rights upkeep was impossible for a town of such modest means and it was visibly falling apart.

That’s why Owen liked it so much. When he saw it, he grinned and jumped so high he appeared to glide as he landed neatly on the church’s spire. Abby followed his example and soon both pubescent children were standing besides each other with balance that would shame a cat. They looked at each other then at the scene in front of them. Abby couldn’t deny Owen was right that the town was incredibly atmospheric, especially now that it was a full moon. As she began to cup Owens face and caress it, she realised it was the only thing that approached the pale, gentle beauty of her love.

“You were right.” She smiled at him.

“Right about what?”

“This place is Halloweeny.” She said slightly teasingly.

Owen grinned broadly, slightly embarrassed at his choice of words but glad she liked it regardless. They began to kiss then. 

Abby’s hands found the woollen hat immediately as she kissed Owen with her eyes closed, soon her hands were drifting through his hair as dark as the night sky. She loved his hair, she loved how soft it was as she ran her fingers through, she loved how dark it was and how it contrasted against his pale skin making him look rather ethereal.

She leapt off the spire and landed on the roof behind it. She looked at Owen as he turned bemused to face her. He looked like an angel, now standing directly on the finer point of the spire, he looked he was floating, and his face was as fine featured and beautiful as always. He looked at her and smiled.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so beautiful.”

He blushed but grinned ear to ear proudly despite himself. “I’m not beautiful, Abby. I’m a boy.”

“Boys can be beautiful too.”

Owen leapt down from the spire to join her. As much as it tickled him to be described as beautiful by his girlfriend, he’d prefer to be called handsome or even cute. It reminded him of much his slender body and face had attracted bullying. He faintly heard Kenny and his friends crying “little girl” as they rained blows on him. He wanted to change the subject.

“Is there anything else you want to do, Abby?”

She glanced at the broken hole in the roof, three meters behind her, leading to the attic of the church. “Do you want to go down there?” She pointed.

“Okay.” The ran and jumped into the hole.

It was extremely dark down there, most of the moonlight was blotted out but they could see just fine. Owen looked around to see if there was something cool to see, he always thought catholic stuff and art was really gothic and interesting. Maybe because his mother, a fervent evangelical, had hated Catholics with a passion, frequently calling them statue worshippers and pagans. There didn’t seem to be anything but debris. Then he noticed at the front of the church, there was a few bricks falling apart. Opening a view to the outside town and the full moon, he smiled and walked towards it.

Abby was a bit perplexed at what he was doing until she saw him press his face against the openings in the wall and he started to change. His eyes became slitted and glowing and his skin started to sicken. He arched his back and howled like a wolf. That perturbed her until she realised what he was doing.

_He’s pretending to be a werewolf._

She felt a myriad of emotions at Owens game. She felt some slight irritation at Owen doing something that could bring attention to them. She was rather impressed he had such control of his other nature so soon after being turned, to the point of being to partially transform at will. It had taken her years to master that. She didn’t know if it was a testament to her teaching or Owens natural talents. Certainly, he seemed to possess an innate creativity and intelligence she herself lacked.

Finally, she felt a strange combination of joy and profound sorrow. Owen looked so sweet and innocent happily playing but at the same time she couldn’t help but remember how vulnerable and miserable and frustrated he was when she first met him. When he angrily stabbed a tree until he was out of breath and spent the rest of the night singing quietly to himself in the snow. _He should have been like that when I first met him._

She felt herself become angry as Owen howled again. While she had killed Kenny, he hadn’t been the only source of pain for him. There was his mother’s neglect, his school’s cruelty and his father abandonment. She had entertained the notion of going back to Los Alamos in the first months of their partnership. To kill his mother, his principle, and his father. 

His father most of all, Owen had told her the conflict he had felt when he had visited him at the hospital and had been genuinely kind to him. That sickened her, kindness only when it was convenient and after the fact when it would have mattered. He had been on the news, his eyes raw red with tears in the first month after Owens disappearance. He had kept repeating the same thing to every journalist, his baby wasn’t dead, he was still alive, and he would have him back in his arms if it was the last thing he would ever do. Owen himself simply didn’t seem to care about his dad at all, having emotionally let him go completely, and he was trying to move on from his terrible life in los Alamos. So, Abby respected that and the adults who had failed him were permitted to live.

Owens stopped his games, his eyes returning back to their green blue beauty as he turned around at Abby and excitedly asked. “Abby, do you want to play?”

She smiled slightly, “It’s okay. I don’t really get the monster thing.”

Owen smiled disappeared, he sensed she was thinking of something. “Abby, what is it?”

“Nothing, Owen.”

“Abby, tell me. Please.”

“It’s not impor….” Then she paused, as they both heard it.

The sounds of the stairs creaking.

They both felt a mixture of embarrassment and shame, this happened a few times when they were enjoying themselves. They would tune out the rest of the world to the extent they could be taken by surprise.

They both hoped they hadn’t heard anything important moving down there, perhaps it was a large rat. Then they heard it again, more creaking noises and a series of thudding noises. Each getting louder, coming closer.

Then they heard more, the sound of rasping breathing and the beating of someone’s heart. They smelt something as well, it smelt disgusting. Of weeks old sweat and filth. The thudding kept coming until they heard the creaking of the hatch door opening.

“Who’s there?” Crocked a hoarse, disused voice.

Owen and Abby stood as quietly and stilly as possible. It was dark in the attic; they could see far more than the man. 

“I said who’s there?” The voice, while still sounding very weak and scratchy, now sounded considerably angrier.

Abby saw Owen tense, no matter how much stronger he knew he was than this man intellectually and knowing he could rip him apart like paper. Owen still emotionally responded the way he had normally done when he was still human. When he saw something that scared him, he would still his muscles and try to make himself as small as possible. It upset her seeing how hurt he was inside and the knowledge of how long it will take to cure him of it.

“Who’s there?!” The voice, a man’s voice, screeched.

The man was both a threatening and somewhat pathetic figure. He was clearly homeless, his body was haggard, filthy and gaunt looking. His shirt was open, revealing a malnourished looking chest, there were several deep red scars on it from where he had been injured in fights. His boots were falling apart, with several toes sticking out from the left one. He had thick, unkempt beard, the mans face looked like it belonged to someone in their mid-thirties, but his facial hair was a mix of silvery greys and white, having aged prematurely. His eyes were darting around the room trying to see the intruders in the church, his eyes looked mad, desperate, and hungry. Owens eyes widened when he saw that the man was holding a knife in his hands.

“I know you’re here. I hear you. I hear you talk; I hear you play; I hear you howl! Why?! Why disturb me?! Why wont you let me sleep?!” He was inching closer to them now.

Both Owen and the man jolted when they heard Abby speak, calmly and clearly. “We were playing. We didn’t know someone lived her. We’re sorry.”

The man stepped back as if in surprise and fear but then he looked angry again. “Children? Why children? Hate Children! Children never come here!” 

“We thought it would be an interesting place to visit. We didn’t know someone lived here. We’re sorry. We’ll just leave and……” The man shrieked at her.

“No! No Leave! You have to pay for waking me!” The man, while very evidently insane, had good instincts. He had managed to pinpoint Abby’s location from her words, and he was advancing on her. Advancing with his knife.

Owen immediately felt his panic and terror reside. He wasn’t the beaten, terrorised boy being mercilessly abused by bullies at Los Alamos high school, he was a young man with his girlfriend who he loved more than life itself. And nothing that lived would threaten her and escape unharmed.

He felt something change in him.

Abby herself was unsure about what to do. The most immediate end to the problem would be to simply kill the man, she could rip out his heart in seconds but for the last year her ruthlessness had been reduced by Owen. Her sweet, little angel. He didn’t like violence, he only killed for food, and while Abby told herself that as well. She couldn’t deny she was rather overzealous when it came to self-defence, and he always advised that they temper their kill count. “It’s not just me being soft, Abby. Really, it isn’t,” he had protested, “It’s about getting away with stuff. You saw, how Los Alamos had become a big media storm when you killed so many people in one place, right?” She couldn’t deny the logic in that and she had attempted to practice restraint ever since. 

But this man, didn’t want to give her that choice. He was barrelling towards, with a speed and intensity that wasn’t reflected by his sickly body at all.

Then she heard a low growling behind her, then she saw a pale blur, followed by the tickle of a sharp breeze brushing her body.

Owen hand was on the man’s throat and he was lifting him off the ground with one slender arm. He started to squeeze his fingers, as his eyes glowed, and the man started to choke and wheeze. Abby just looked on. As unnecessary as it was, she was always touched by Owens boyish gallantry and chivalry. After 10 seconds Owen let go and dropped the vagrant on the ground.

He was still alive.

“Owen?” she gasped. His eyes were still glowing, so his demonic side was active, but he hadn’t killed him.

“Yeah, Abby.” His voice still so soft and high.

“You didn’t kill him.” 

“No, I just cut off the blood to his brain. I learnt it in that martial art book Zorić gave me. He should be alright.” Abby just continued to look at him in awe, Owen had turned into his vampire form. His skin was too sickly looking for his normal paleness to account for it, but he had exerted enough control over himself to not harm the human. _That’s incredible, I was a hundred years old before I learnt to control myself in my other side at all. He’s such a good boy, he so kind and that’s after years of him being hurt so much by everyone he ever knew._ Owen hated the rest of humanity, but he was still willing to practise mercy and self-restraint for people sake. 

Owen felt himself shuffling on his feet. He didn’t understand why Abby was looking at him the way she was. _Is she surprised I didn’t kill him?_ That concerned him. Ever since Abby saw him practise his fantasies of killing Kenny, he had always been concerned she saw him as a freak, a psycho. And no matter how many times Abby assured him he was a good person and, indeed, had eaten dozens of people with him, he still had the niggling fear of being judged by her.

He gazed self-consciously at his feet. “It’s like you said Abby. We need blood to live. We only kill because we have too.” He looked at Abby again, fitfully.

She ran over and hugged him, her face buried in his neck. Owen was startled by that, but he quickly relaxed and hugged her back.

“Owen, you’re such a good boy. You’re so sweet, you’re so….” She just buried her head further into his flesh not knowing how to put into words what she felt.

Owen was almost giddy from the attention, but he thought it was ab it much. “Thanks Abby. But its not a big deal, I’m just not a psycho. I’m…. ohhh.” He broke of into a moan.

Abby had begun to kiss him on the neck.

She was gently sucking and licking on the pale flesh. He tasted fresh and clean to her. As she continued to nuzzle him, she was reminded of when she was human. When she lived on the plantation and drank some of the fresh milk from the farm. She kissed and sucked the snowy white skin even deeper.

As she continued to kiss, leaving barely noticeable love bites, she felt Owens muscles contract into a smile and laughed to himself quietly, he sounded a little embarrassed at the attention.

“Abby, its not a big deal, really. Taking him out like that was really easy. I swear.” Abby’s kissing intensified and she started to whisper to him.

“You’re just so sweet, Owen. You’re just so sweet.” Her lips moved towards his lips and he began to kiss her back.

They were lost in their embrace when they heard a mild groan from the knife wielding man in his unconscious state. They broke off the kiss rather abruptly, then they looked at each other awkwardly.

“Uh...i guess we should back now, huh.” Owen said.

“Yeah, id really like that.” She smiled back at him. 

They both walked over to underneath the opening in the roof. They took a moment to look at each other in the moonlight before they tensed their muscles and jumped.

The owner of the bed and breakfast was still awake. He was a light sleeper, and he woke easily. Especially after the disappearance and death of those two men. He shuttered at the thought of the man who been found ravaged as if by some beast. He was also very concerned about the two young children, staying at his establishment. Kids that young shouldn’t be on their own for that long, neither had mentioned relatives they were going to after their duration in his establishment had finished.

He was especially concerned about they boy, he seemed to have such a vulnerability to him. He wondered if they boy had been given a hard time in school, he seemed like a target for bullies with his small stature and beautiful face that still retained some its delicate pre-adolescent androgyny. He seemed so skittish when ever he asked him questions or tried to talk to him. When he told him he reminded him of a boy who had been on the news a year ago from New Mexico, his face had lost any colour it still had and he had normally looked so pale his face could have been carved out of marble. He was also perturbed by the memory of the sound of audible hissing coming from the room they stayed in when he broached the subject. The girl had still been in there if his memory served him well.

He sighed and realised he shouldn’t complain or overthink things. The children were the best customers he had in years, the tourist industry had been dead since he could remember and the only reason he really kept the bed and breakfast running at all was because he wanted to keep some locals employed. That and he got lonely in his large but increasingly decrepit house and he liked having visitors. 

As he got lost in thought he heard something. It sounded vaguely like the flapping of large wings. He frowned, that was odd. The area he lived in wasn’t known for being a hunting ground for eagles. The largest bird who flew bye regularly were owls and it sounded like whatever was flying outside was descending directly towards the building. Then he heard something, it sounded like a large thudding noise.

And it was from the kid’s rooms.

The owner immediately gathered himself and walked as quickly as his old, fat legs would carry him. He was clenching the extra key he had to their room between his fingers, so hard he thought the metal had bit into his skin. He didn’t pay attention to it; he was so worried about those children. They were both so skinny and fragile looking, and he was worried that something had hurt them. He put the key into the hole and turned it quickly and opened the door.

There was nothing amiss.

The room was dark and completely undisturbed, and the window was closed shut. The big trunk that they were able to carry around with them effortlessly was in the middle of the room and atop the trunk was some of the ancient puzzles the maid he hired part time had mentioned. He looked at them. They were of rather strange design and origin, and it looked quite expensive. He decided it was none of his business when he turned his head and saw them. The boy and the girl, they were sleeping on the bed together. 

He at first was concerned that they were doing something rather adult. In the week since they moved in, he could have sworn he hard noises from their room; smooching, moaning and even humping. And currently their arms were intertwined around one another, but they didn’t look adult at all. In their sleep they both looked so innocent, they appeared even younger than their already tender years. He noticed neither of them seemed to be making any sounds, they must be light sleepers. And he had barged into their rooms late at night. He felt terrible and rather guilty for risking nearly waking them. He quietly walked out of the door, before closing it as quietly as he could. 

As the footsteps dimmed, Abby and Owen opened their eyes. They were both rather irritated when they realised the owner was still awake at night when they landed but now that the risk of discover had again been negated they looked at each other and laughed softly in the dark.

“We really need to kill that guy.” Abby half-jokingly whispered.

“Yeah.” He smiled back at her, then he resumed kissing her.

That surprised Abby usually it was she who instigated the more intimate aspects of their relationship, Owen was more comfortable with hugs and cuddles. Not that he didn’t enjoy when they kissed or had sex, it simply always fell on Abby to start the process. But not now, Owen was kissing her and his tongue was slipping into her mouth. That did cause her eyes to open fully in surprise, while his hands tentatively were laid upon her shoulders.

 _Those he want to do it, tonight?_ Abby thought excitedly. She would have been content with simply making it out with him all night, but she lowered her hands to his groin and began to unzip his pants and undo his belt. She didn’t notice his hands were still on her shoulders and they jolted a little bit in surprise.

“Abby.” He yelped softly.

She looked at his beautiful eyes, but her hands didn’t stop opening is pants up. “Yes, Owen?”

“You want to do it? Tonight? In here?” He said shyly, his eyes looking at the door nervously.

“Yeah, Owen. Why? Don’t you?” She said very disappointedly.

“No, I do! Abby, I do want to do it!” his face scrunched up a little in embarrassment, “Sex, I mean. I really want to. It’s just…. what if that guy hears us? Its like his hearings as good as ours.”

“Then well kill him.” She herself wasn’t sure that was a joke anymore, her hand was brushing Owens boxers now and she doubted there was a force in the universe that would interrupt her and live.

“Heh, but really Abby. The guy might hear us.”

“And I really meant id kill him if he stopped us.”

“But…. ohh, can’t we just wait until tomorrow?” Abby stopped, feeling as is she had been slapped. She even pouted in a similar fashion to how Owen used to in his old life.

“Why tomorrow? He’ll still be there.”

“Yeah, but not here. We could do it in a cave or in the woods or something.”

Abby bit her lip in frustration, she supposed it made sense, but she didn’t think she could wait another hour never mind a day. Owen saw that in his beautiful saucer like eyes.

“We can kiss and stuff for as long as you want, though. I don’t think he can hear that.”

Abby didn’t need any encouragement at that. 

They kissed and touched each over for what felt like an eternity. Abby’s hands in particular were rather busy, they had slipped into Owens boxers and were firmly gripped around his ass. She began to squeeze and hold them like they were made of precious metals. As one squeeze made him shutter in pleasure, he broke the kiss to look at her curiously.

“Yeah, Owen?” She said slightly frustrated.

“Its…just. Abby…. Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“No.” She muttered.

“Why do you like my ass so much?” She blinked in surprise at that. Owen had never asked her about why she liked touching him in that way. 

“I just like it. Why? Don’t you like me touching you there?” She said a bit worried; she didn’t want Owen to feel like he had to feign pleasure, but she wasn’t sure she could live without hers.

“No, I do. I do.” Owen was a little embarrassed about how much he liked it. He had always heard only gays liked things being done to them down there and he wondered whether that meant there was something wrong with him. Especially after Kenny assaulted him in the gym and he had sworn he’d rather die than be touched by another guy again.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Its just why do you like it so much?”

“I don’t know, I just do. It feels really nice and it looks really nice.”

“How can my ass look or feel nice?” He said, somewhat jokingly but also slightly perplexed.

“I don’t know, it just does.” Abby found it to be as cute and skinny as the rest of its owners’ body. She looked at him again and said rather teasingly.

“Do you really want to talk about your ass all night, Owen?” His face turned red upon hearing the question.

“No, no,” he laughed slightly at himself, making a big deal over something they both liked, “I just want to know what you like most about me, Abby.”

“I like everything about you.” She informed a beaming Owen and with that, wanting to enjoy every second of the night she began to kiss and massage him again. 

Eventually they ended their little session and as Abby lips departed from his, Owen grinned. They didn’t know what to do for the remainder of the night, they had already played very single one of their puzzles and games. The ancient ones Abby hoarded, and the more modern ones Owen bought.

They supposed they should just go to sleep. After over a year, Owen wasn’t sure if calling the rest they entered into as “sleep” was accurate. It felt extremely deep and intense like a hibernation and he would wake up entirely refreshed and often physical pain was the only thing that could wake him. Yet at the same time, he was always sort of aware of the things that were going on outside him, he could tell if the sun was up and whether a human was nearby. Maybe it was like mediation? He had read about what some fighters described mediation as being like and it was similar to how he would describe the sensations of his vampiric slumber .

Owen was the first to get up. He stripped off immediately and walked naked like a jaybird to the door. He creaked it open ever so slightly before hanging the “do not disturb” sign up. He walked over to the bathroom door, while Abby very appreciatively started at his nude body. She followed him.

They were very fortunate in that the bathroom lacked any windows of any kind, but regardless Owen insisted on sleeping under blankets in the bathtub, just to be ultra-safe. He got in first, she wasn’t entirely sure why he preferred to sleep naked. He had told her it helped him sleep better, plus it seemed rather appropriate considering how animalistic their sleeping habits were. She certainly wasn’t going to complain about the view. She thought about stripping too, she liked the closeness and intimacy she felt when sleeping naked with Owen, but she didn’t this time. The main reason was because she was still slightly upset at having their intimacy delayed by Owens caution. Not that he minded, he was already asleep, and his eyes were clamped shut

As still as a corpse.

It was her only regret from changing him, that she would never hear the sweet, cute noises of his soft snoring or his gentle breathing. As she slipped in to lie besides him, her face buried into his silky smooth neck, as she draped the blanket over them, she realised they would only be able to stay at this town for another week or two. While sparing that man had been very compassionate on Owens part, he would doubtlessly be questioned by other inhabitants what had bruised his neck. And while the man was clearly mentally unwell and dangerous, and his claims of skinny yet inhumanly strong children could be dismissed as the ravings of a madman. Some might mutter about the two odd children who had come to the town a week ago, with no adults attending them and with an inexplicable amount of cash to pay for themselves. Then some others might point out their appearance coincided with the deaths of several other members of the town’s populace.

As she realised this while tracing Owens back, she realised it didn’t matter. This would always be their live. Nomadic, uncertain, never being able to settle down. She and Owen accepted it. They even liked it, Owen in particular, he had endured what humans consider a normal life and he had suffered immensely for it and he had told her an hour with her was worth a hundred years with his drunken mother or his pathetic father. 

As long as they had each other nothing else mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is the first short story ive written i hope it turned out well. Im not really sure if its in continuity with the original movie or the long story i wrote earlier. It could be set in either of them really, it doesnt really matter. I tried to do two things with the story, show Owen happy for once, and two, try ot reflect how brutal their lives would be on the run. They couldnt live off animal blood or donors or even exclusively off people who deserved to die like murderers, which i didnt really see as being a realistic possibility for Owen or abby.


End file.
